


A Simple Gesture

by CatLovingArmour



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cultural Differences, F/M, Friendship, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-14 00:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5722942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatLovingArmour/pseuds/CatLovingArmour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cents Lavellan wasn't very good at expressing certain emotions. So he used a small gesture to show them. No ones completely sure exactly what it means, but they know that its something important to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Simple Gesture

It had roughly been three hours since they found Lavellan, stumbling through the snow, half dead and exhausted from the fall of Haven. No one was even sure of how he survived the attack, let alone managed to reach them before he collapsed. He was immediately rushed to the healers who set about trying to warm him and save his fingers and toes from the cold. Now he laid buddle in multiple layers of fur and wool, shivering in his sleep. Cassandra had taken it upon herself to watch over him; to make sure he did not become worse but also to make sure he did not wake up alone. 

She had not taken her eyes of him for those entire three hours. It kept her preoccupied from the worry of where to go from here, how they would rebuild, and even though she could do nothing but watch and guard him it made her feel as though she was doing something of use.

“Mae… Nee…”

The soft murmurs immodestly caught her undivided attention. “Cents!” Cassandra exclaimed, trying not to be too loud so as to not startle him. He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze looking lost, confused, and very tired. She felt a wave of relief fall over her. It was one thing for her to be told that he would be well in time, it was another to actually see it for herself. “Do you know here you are?”

“I… I walked and...” he said, his words slow and sluggish.

Cassandra nodded. “And you found us. You’re safe. Do you know how I am? The healers say you may have trouble remembering for a little bit.”

Cents tried to burrow further into the furs he had practically been buried in. “… cold.”

“Yes, it is,” she couldn’t help but smile, most likely out of relief than anything else. She wished there was more she could do to keep him warm, but any spare furs they had where already on top of him. 

“Nee comin’ back?” he asked in a small, hopeful voice.

“I don’t know who that is,” she admitted, wondering who he was referring to. Cents looked confused and a little worried before he managed to focus his gaze upon Cassandras face.

“You’re really pretty,” he said simply, as though pointing out fact. 

Cassandra couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at that. Even if he didn’t seem to understand exactly what was going on he was definitely still himself. “You have told me that before. It always seems to be when you have something wrong with your head.”

He said nothing for a while, just stared up at her as his eyes became more focused. “Cass… you’re Cass.”

“You remember?” she asked again, feeling another rise of hope in her chest.

“Remember you,” Cents tells her, nodding his head slightly.

She nodded, feeling small tears form in the corners of her eyes. “Good.”

“You should sleep. Or get warm,” he told her, his own eyes looking heavy once more.

“So should you. I’m watching over you right now”

“But…”

“I want to.”

The furs shifted as he pulled free his right hand, the one he was not currently lying on. He brought the still blue tipped, shaking fingers to his lips before moving towards Cassandra. She didn’t move, simply allowing him to do what he deemed to be so important he was giving up his cocoon of warmth. He clumsily reached out before touching her on her forehead. His shivers started to increase and his hand trailed down her now slightly blushing face, along the side of her nose. Cassandra reached up and took his hand into her warmer one. Though his fingers still felt as though they were somewhat numb to him he tried to curl them in such a way that he was holding onto her.

“You going to be here when I wake up?” he asked in a small, tired voice.

“Yes. We all will.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Cents drifted in and out of consciousness during the next day or two, becoming more coherent each time he did so until eventually he woke up completely and tried to help around the camp before Cassandra found him and marched him back to his cot so the healers could make sure he was completely alright. He didn’t seem to have any memory of waking up over those few days, and Cassandra never mentioned what happened. 

 

-  
“Morning, Cole.” 

Cents never seemed to be able to be angry when it came to Cole. He had a short temper at the best of times, and when he had first learned of Cole and his unique abilities he was almost certain that spirit boy would annoy and anger him. But if anything it was usually the opposite. He seemed to have a somewhat calming effect on the elf, making him accept the emotions of himself and others as facts rather then what he might interoperate them to mean in his own head.

“Songs so sweet, like honey on the tongue. But then the tongue gets tied and the words don’t come out right,” Cole mumbled out loud, which Cents took as his way of greeting him.

“Someone got a bit of a crush on the bard, huh?” Cents pondered, peering down at Krem’s usual spot. He had seen him staring at her plenty of times, even going so far as sitting on the back of his chair just to get a better look at her.

“Crushing is bad,” Cole warned, as though Cents was about to out and crush someone to death with a boulder. 

“Not that kind of crush. It’s like… liking someone but not doing anything about it,” he clarified, trying not to think about how that applied to himself and a certain lady Seeker. 

“Oh, Cullen explained that to me,” Cole said, realisation appearing in his unfocused eyes. 

Cents couldn’t help but laugh at that. 

“Brought you some breakfast,” he told him, passing him one of the two apples he had in his hands.

“I don’t need to eat,” Cole reminded him once again, carefully turning the apple over in his slim fingers to look at it at all angles.

Cents just shrugged and manoeuvred himself to sit on the floor, his legs handing of the edge as he held onto one of the wooden railings. “In case you change your mind,” he told him, taking a bit out of his own apple. He could see why Cole liked it up here, far away from people to have his own space but still able to see them all at the same time. It was a nice place to just people watch. 

“You come to see me a lot.”

“Well, you said not many people remember you. But I do.”

“Nowhere to go, green place too far. Blank faces, they don’t care. ‘Not worth the time or effort.’ He shouldn’t be alone like that.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cents quietly agreed, taking another bite in order to give himself and excuse to not talk about it further. If it had been anyone else bring something like that up he would probably have just gotten up and walked away by this point. But Cole was different, and not just because he could sort of read minds and emotions. He never did anything to hurt or spite people, at least not on purpose. He tried to help them. And besides, it wasn’t like he was wrong.

Cole sat beside him, copying his position and looking of into the middle space as he often did. “They made you think like that. And then you made you think like that. But it’s not true. You know that, but it doesn’t always help. I don’t know how to help either. You’re not less. You’re worth yourself.”  
Cents felt his throat go tight and a warmth spread through his chest. He didn’t want to say anything to that. What was there even to say? Instead he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to brush away the apple juice before kissing his fingers and reaching to the side to tap at Cole’s forehead, having to nudge his large hat up a little with his knuckles to get to it. 

Cole was silent for a few seconds, seeming dazed by what just happened. He brought his own fingertips to his mouth and smiled. “Mamea, Nehn, Elgara, clan, safe, secure, trust, happy. Home.”

Cents nodded, looking down over the tavern. “Yup.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Cole.”

 

-  
“I’m fine,” Cents protested, trying to shoo Bull away. After getting separated from the others and getting attacked by a bear out of nowhere (Bull swears the elf somehow just attacks angry wildlife wherever he goes) it was pretty clear that he wasn’t completely fine. Sure, he was still conscious, had all his limbs, and wasn’t bleeding to death, but his leg did not look good at all. 

“I’ll believe that when you can actually stand on it,” Bull told him, mentally cursing the fact that neither of them had any more healing potions with them. Still, they weren’t too far off from the next camp, just a ten minute walk at the most. That is, assuming Cents could even walk normally right now.

“I’m standing. Look, see. Standing,” Cents protested, pushing himself from the tree he was leaning against to put all of his weight on his good leg. 

“And the other foot,” Bull prompted, one hand on his hip, reminding himself of his own Tama when he used to say that his scrapped and bloodied knees didn’t hurt at all.

The elf looked up at Bull with a tired and slightly annoyed expression. “I’ll be fine.”

Bull signed. “Yeah you will, as soon as we get you to the camp.”

“It’s just twisted. Couldn’t you go grab a potion and bring it back rather than bothering healers with this?”

“I could but that would mean leaving you alone in an area where a bear just attacked us.”

“Well what else do you suggest?”

“Let me carry you, it’ll be quicker.”

A few moments of silence passed before Cents sighed. “Okay.”

Bull was honestly a little surprised not to hear more protests or complaints from him. His ankle must have been pretty bad. Crouching down, he took hold of the elf’s torso from behind and lifting him up onto his shoulders, being careful not to hold him too tightly or to jostle the wounded leg too much. He sort of felt like he was dealing with a hurt but annoyed cat, which wasn’t too far off of a description for the situation. Cents allowed it without protest or resistance, something Bull couldn’t imagine him doing when they had first met. He had been terrified of him, or maybe just qunari in general. But still, he had stubbornly stood his ground, looked him in the eye, and agreed to hire him and the chargers into the Inquisition. That was something Bull had respected about him right off the bat.

“Must be weird being this tall all the time,” Cents mused to himself, and he steadied himself and held onto Bulls horns for balance. 

“You get used to it,” Bull laughed as he started walking towards the safety of the camp, placing one hand over Cents good leg to make sure he didn’t fall off.

“I could have walked you know,” he reminded Bull, as though to give him an excused to change his mind about carrying him.

“I know.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got your back, Boss”

Cents released his grip of one of his horns and paused. “I know.” Bull felt the pads f three fingers being placed on his forehead before Cents regained his grip on his horn once again. Deliberate and intentional, meaningful and important. He didn’t need his Ben-Hassrath training to tell him that. 

Bull beamed. “You going soft on me there?” he teased.

“You wish.”

 

-  
“Josie, I love you, but if I have to deal with one more nobleman today I am going to do something I will not regret but you certainly will.” 

“You’ll be happy to know that was the last one for the rest of the week.”

“Oh, thank the Creators!” Cents grinned, throwing his hands up in the air and standing up from one of the chairs nearby the fireplace.

“Oh, before you go I have something for you,” Josephine said quickly, before the lf had a chance to slip away as quickly as he could. 

“It’s not more reports, is it?” he asked, looking dubiously at her.

“No, no. You will like this,” she promised him.

His curiosity peeked. “Really?”

“As everyone has been so busy as of late II do not believe any have noticed it, but it has been a year since the Inquisition was formed.”

He paused. “It has?” No that Cents thought about it, it must have been. It was odd, he hadn’t noticed the time go by. Well, that wasn’t odd, he had a hard time keeping track of time generally, but the fact that he had been with these people for a year was somewhat remarkable to him. 

“Yes. And I though it may be appropriate to give you something,” Josephine said, grinning excitedly.

Cents suddenly looked guilty. “You don’t have to do that! I didn’t get you anything.”

“It is nothing so important, just a little token,” she explained, pulling a small white box from the top draw of her desk and handing it to him.

Cents carefully took the offered gift and lifted off the lid. Inside was a single cupcake, covered in smooth white icing and decorated with little sugar flowers.

“I know you are not overly fond of Orlais but I must insist you try their cake, it is to die for.”

“This is for me?” he asked, sounding a little bewildered at the simple but elegant gift.

“Yes. To be truthful I wasn’t too sure what I should get you, but I believed the occasion called for something. And admittedly I did order one for myself also,” she laughed a little uncertainly, trying to get some kind of response out of the elf. She was starting to wonder if she should have gotten him something simpler like an apple pie or maybe she should have just let the occasion pass without mention. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was happy or disappointed, she certainly hoped he was angry about it.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about what he thought for very long, as a small but happy smile grew on his face. Cents carefully balanced the open box in one hand, using the other to bring to his lips and gently touch Josephine’s forehead.

“I take it you like the gift?” she giggled, reaching up to touch where Cents’ fingers had just been. 

“Yeah,” he grinned at her.

“Then would you like to eat together? I also have some lovely tea from Antiva that should go very nicely with them.”

 

-  
Sera and Cents were on the roof once more, laid on their back and manically laughing.

“You should have seen it!” Cents told her, whipping away the tears that had started in his eyes as he tried to get his breathing under control once again.

“When did he figure it out?” Sera asked, her cackling started to slowly die down.

“I think we would have heard about it if he had twigged on by now.”

“He’s going to kill you when he finds out!”

Cents blew a raspberry. “Nah, you only in trouble if you get caught. Besides, how’s he going to know it was me? It could have just as easily been you.”

“Cos if I was going to draw on Cullen’s face when he’s asleep, I would have drawn a dick, not whiskers,” she announced, her words making the pair go back into a fit of laughter. 

It took a few minutes for the two to calm down once more, both rather happy to simply relax and look up at the clear sky. Sera pulled a large tin from the window frame, pulling of the lid and putting it between the two of them. 

“Here. Been makin’ more of ‘em,” she offered up a cookie to Cents, taking one for herself as well. 

“Are these ones edible at all?” Cents asked, and it was worth the sharp elbow to the gut he got.

“Shut it, doodle face!”

Cents did in fact shut it, and took the offered cookie from her. He had long since been assigned taste tester to any of her experiences that she needed either unsure or unsafe. Usually they weren’t too bad anyway, and even if they were it was a pretty good opportunity for a good laugh. But since she was having some herself she must have already deemed them as at least ‘good enough’. When Cents bit into it he immediately recognised the taste. Blueberries. The rest of the cookies where like Sera usually made them, burn at the bottom and too much salt rather than sugar, but the blueberries where something he would recognise anywhere. 

“You said you used to have ‘em with blueberries when you were little – well, littler – so I thought I’d given ‘em a go. They’re not bad, way better then raisins at least. I should try strawberries or blackberries next time. Or all of ‘em! Just lotsa fruit, yeah?”

He didn’t reply to her, just continued looking up into the clear sky and eating his cookie. Sera seemed to take his silence as a positive notes and started nibbling on her own. A few moments later Sera felt him touch her forehead, crumbs still on his fingers.

“Geroff,” Sera laughed at his, pushing his hand away from her and gently slapping him in his face, making him laugh.

“They’re not bad,” Cents admitted, shoving another whole in his face, making Sera groan. 

“You’d like any old rubbish I’d give you,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. 

“Probably. I really do like these though. And the fruit cookies sound good,” he told her with a smile, reaching for yet another one.

“Yeah? And maybe apples and ‘nanas and other stuff. Like, fruit pie cookies!”

“Well we’re definitely going to need some raspberries for that,” Cents said seriously.

“And definitely the blueberries.”

“But no raisins.”

Before Sera could tell Cents to stop taking all the cookies for himself, the loud, angry cry of one Commander of the Inquisition army echoes throughout Skyhold.

“LAVELLAN!”

“Well, I’m in trouble.”

 

-  
“You did what?” Cents asked, a little startled by Cullen’s decision. 

“He was being disrespectful to you, and to elves in general. I’m not putting up with that nonsense,” Cullen said firmly.

Cents had not really thought much of it when it happened. Some new recruit had bumped into him, called him a Knife Ear and then profusely started apologising when he realised he was the Inquisitor. He had simply ignored the man completely and walked away, not wanting to make a scene out of it. It wasn’t until he had noticed during training that the new group was one man short that he thought to bring it up with Cullen in his office. 

“Cullen, as much as this may be hard for you and everyone else to believe, I am capable of keeping my temper in check,” he said, purposefully ignoring the raised eyebrow of disbelief that the commander was giving him. “If I go punching out everyone who has a problem with me or calls me a name then we’d have two problems. One, my fists are going to be sore for days, and two, it’s just going to confirm all the bad stuff they say. It’s better to either not let it get to you or just walk away from it.”

“And if he was just a random merchant or trader I would have let it go,” Cullen agreed. “But he’s a member of the Inquisitions army, your army.”

“Not my army,” he insisted, for what felt like the hundredth time. He was in no place to be giving that many people so many orders and hated the very idea of him being the one in charge.

“An army,” Cullen continued as though he had not been interrupted, “that consists not just of humans, but dwarfs, qunari and yes, elves. So the quicker he gets those delusional ideas out of his head the better.”

Cents couldn’t really argue on that front. He knew it wasn’t just about him, it was about what he stood for and represented, something he was still trying to get accustomed to. And the fact that Cullen was trying his hardest to make sure that everyone was on equal footing as each other, be they humans or elves, Templars or mages, made it all the more important for Cents to support his decision. 

“You still didn’t have to dismiss him! We need as many soldiers as we can get.”

“I didn’t dismiss him,” he said, with a smug looking smile on his face.

That got his attention. “Then what did you do?”

“I sent him to the Fallow Mire for a two weeks to collect as much Embrium as he can.”

Cents thought for a few seconds. “Embrium doesn’t grow in the Fallow Mire.”

“No. No it does not,” Cullen smiled, looking very proud of himself.

Cents let out a surprised and somewhat gleeful laugh. He needed to get this side of Cullen out more. As his laughter died down he saw the look on the man’s face, the look that clearly said ‘I was right but you don’t have to say anything’. He got that look far too often. But he was right.

“Look, I’m not very good at saying thank you,” Cents started awkwardly. 

“Or apologizing, or saying please,” Cullen added in a teasing tone, as he sat back down to his paperwork.  
“Uh huh,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. He really wasn’t very good at all of that. He was trying but he just wasn’t used to it.

So rather than saying anything, Cents touched his lips before leaning over the rest and touching – well, more like a playful jabbing – Cullen’s forehead. “See you later, Falon,” he then waved before dashing out of the open door.

“If you’re going to insult me, could you please at least use terms I understand,” he called after him, wishing for probably the hundredth time that Cents would learn to close the door when he entered or left his office.

 

-  
“You’re an idiot,” Cents seethed, yanking his dagger from the chest of a dead bandit. There hadn’t been many of them, but they had caught the pair by surprise. He was starting to wonder if splitting up the group was ever a good idea.

“Is that how you thank everyone for saving your life?” Blackwall grumbled from the log he was sitting on, downing another healing potion. 

“I’d be more thankful if you weren’t currently bleeding all over yourself.”

“It’s nothing too serious,” he said, looking down at the gash along his side. It really wasn’t any more, the wound slowly but surely knitting itself together again. He’s have to sit down for a few minutes and maybe get checked over when they got back, but he had had far worse in the past.

“I could have taken the hit just fine, you didn’t have to step in between me and him,” Cents said, nudging who he assumed had been the leader of the gang.

“I’m trained to take more hits then you are,” Blackwall defended himself.

“Doesn’t mean get to be an idiot about it.”

“You’re the inquisitor, we need you in one piece,” the man told him sternly, for what felt like the hundredth time.

Cents shot him with a cold glare. “Don’t use that bullshit excuse on me, you know it doesn’t work. We need our grey warden in one piece too.”

“I’m not a grey warden,” Blackwall grimly reminded the elf, as well as himself, once again.

Cents rolled his eyes at him. “Fine, we need our grey-warden-who-can’t-actually-sense-darkspawn-so-he’s-kind-of-uselessin one piece too. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” he deadpanned. Blackwall hated when he would outright refuse to take something seriously, and him lying about who he was and what he had done was definitely something serious. Sure, Cents had been mad at him, practically spitting nails at the time, but he had still dragged him back and pardoned him. He never really brought it up again, never told him how angry he had been like everyone else did. Like he wanted to pretend that it never happened. 

“Is that why you’re being stupid?” Cents asked, breaking Blackwall from his internal thoughts.

“I can at least provide a decent shield if nothing else.”

Cents threw up his arms in annoyance. “Yeah, your shield, not yourself as a shield!”

“You kept me in the inquisition for something, so just let me do this,” Blackwall told him, almost pleading. 

Cents frowned in a mixture of confusion and frustration. “You think I let you stay, for what? An extra target?”

Blackwell’s silence was enough of an answer. Cents sighed heavily as though he was exhausted from the short conversion. He looked at Blackwall with a thoughtful yet blank expression before kissing his fingers and tapping him in the forehead.

“You’re not useless,” he told the man, before flicking him in between the eyes. “And don’t do it again.”

Blackwall sat there in silence for a few seconds, contemplating what the elf had just done, before smiling a little. “Is that an elf thing? Sera’s never done that before.”

“It’s a shut-up-and-don’t-think-about-it thing. Feeling up to walk?”

 

-  
“I’m not stupid.”

Varric chuckled. “No one’s saying you are, Magpie. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have to learn something new things in your life.”

“I tried. Ages ago. But all the shapes just kind of look the same after a while.”

“Who helped you?”

Cents shrugged. “No one.”

“Well there’s your problem. You need to be taught the basics or you’re never going to go anywhere. Now, you’re going to need to know the alphabet to actually do everything, but for today why don’t we try to write your name,” Varric suggested, thinking that the elf would be far more open to being taught something once he knew he could accomplish it. 

“Mine?”

Varric nodded as he pulled out a few pieces of paper and two pencils. “Yep. Names are important, and you’re going to have to write yours to sign off on Inquisitorial business sooner or later rather than leaving it to Ruffles.”

That seemed to sway his decision, as Cents reached across the table and took half of the items. “Okay. How do I do this?”

“You gotta brake down your name into noises. So you Got; Seh. Eh. Nn. Te. Se. Each of those sounds corresponds with a letter,” Varric explained, writing out the name on the top of one of the pieces of paper as he did so.

Cents gave him a look that was halfway between annoyed and bored. “I understand that, I’m not a complete idiot.”

“I’m not trying to ruffle your feathers, just explaining.” He passed the same piece over to him. “Now here. These are the letters that make up your name. I want you to write them down.”

Cents took it and raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t this just copying? I thought you hated that.”

“When your copying an entire book word for word, yeah, I hate that. But everyone learns by copying,” Varric explained, indicating to him to follow his instruction.

Cents tentatively held the pencil in a grip that was far too tight and ridged. Not that Varric was going to tell him, he’d figure it out for himself soon enough. After checking each letter carefully multiple times, and uttering the sounds of each one, Cents slowly began to write his own name out, his tongue sticking out slightly at the side in concentration. 

“Not bad,” Varric said, looking over the shaky writing as he took it away. “Now try it without the reference.”

Cents looked nervously at a fresh piece of paper before making a hesitant attempted, again saying the sounds aloud as he went.

“I messed up,” he announced somewhat bitterly after his first try, looking at the word in frustration. He wasn’t sure how it was different from before but he knew it wasn’t the same.

The dwarf looked over to see what the problem was. “You got the S and C mixed up, but that’s okay, your names spelt a little oddly so they sound alike. And the E is backwards. That’s a common mistake for beginners. But you got the N the right way and you remembered to cross the T. Try it again.”

Cents grumbled but never the less still made another attempted. And another and another, each time with Varric pointing out where he went wrong and what he got right. This went on for close to half an hour until Cents had managed to spell it correctly ten times in a row.

“Well, I’d say you definitely gotten your name down. You’ll be signing papers like a pro.”

Cents had a large, proud grin on his face, looking down at the page littered with his correctly written name. “This is… I did it!”

Varric nodded. “Let me know when you want to learn the whole alphabet.”

Cents started to stand out of his chair, clutching onto the paper and looking in the direction of Josephine’s office, probably with the intent to try and sign anything he could straight away. Right before he left, he absentmindedly kissed his fingertips and reached over to touch Varric on the forehead.

“You’re welcome, Magpie,” Varric smiled at the elf and he dashed away, remembering Merrill sharing the same gesture with him.

 

-  
“I didn’t take it, honest!” was arguably not the most convincing way for Cents to begin a conversation. But this time it honestly hadn’t been him! Yes, he was known for his sticky fingers and there was definitely a reason for Varric’s nickname for him, and he may have been the reason for all of the pawn pieces of Cullen’s chess set going missing, but even he wasn’t crazy enough to try and swipe something from Vivienne. Despite what others thought he didn’t actually have a death wish.

He had no idea how the blanket had even come into his possession. He remembered being in the main hall late the night before, trying to figure out which materials should go to which requisition requests, which was extremely time consuming normally but even worse when he could only understand every fifth word or so. The next thing he knew it was morning and he had a fancy looking blanket over him. It was thick and soft and had the sort of swirly light purple pattern on it that immediately registered it as belonging to Vivienne. He hadn’t wasted a second before immediately folding it up and running (and swaying slightly) up the stairs to her area.

Vivienne looked up from the book she was reading in her armchair, seeming a little surprised to see him. “Of course you didn’t, dear. I was the one who gave it to you.”

Cents blinked. “You… were?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Now that he thought about it that did make sense then someone trying to pin a theft on him. He was also slowly realising that he must have fallen asleep at some point and that was how he hadn’t realised it before. And then be thought of what an odd sight he must look to Vivienne, stumbling up the stairs, bleary eyed and hair in more of a mess than usual, claiming not to have ten something that was given to him.

Vivienne, in all her usual unfazed grace, took the lopsidedly folded blanket from him. “Thank you for bringing it back. You really should be more careful about where you fall asleep.”

“I didn’t mean to, I just… kind of got distracted,” he explained awkwardly. He never quite knew where he stood with her, though he certainly respected her he could never shake the feeling that she was a hairsbreadth away from giving him a stern lecture about one thing or another. 

“Yes, but you still must take better care of your sleep schedule,” she told him, rather gently, with a small smile. Cents couldn’t help but smile back.

He must have still been half asleep as he had to stop himself after he brought his fingers to his lips. Somehow he didn’t think Vivienne would much appreciate being touched like that. She didn’t like being touched at all really, so he certainly wasn’t going to push it.

He dropped his hand before he awkwardly worked his tongue around the words. “I, erm… thank you.”

She nodded. “You’re very welcome, my dear. Now, you had better run along, we both have duties to attend to.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 

-  
“Inquisitor. May I have a word with you?” Leliana called down when she spotted Cents standing with Solas at the bottoms of the rotunda. Cents looked up before immediately sprinting up the spiralling stairs. 

“Is everything okay, Leliana?”

She chose not to waste any time in explaining the situation that had the Inquisitor on edge for the past few day and simply faced in head on. “We received word of your clan.”

Cents could barely wait until she finished her sentence before desperately asking, “Are they okay?”

“You will be happy to know that our operatives were able to distract the bandits enough for your Clan to withdraw safely and to a more defensible area.”

Cents slowly turned the words over in his head before trying to clarify. “So, they’re…”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, Inquisitor. They are safe and well.”

She had never seen the elf look so happy and so relived, as though he had just been told that corypheus was defeated and there was no more evil to be fought in the world. “Oh, thank the creators! You are amazing!” he grinned, not thinking about the fact that he was now bringing his fingertips to touch his lips and placing them on her forehead. 

Leliana blinked in surprise by the unusual gesture before clearing her throat. “Yes, well. We have other work to do.”  
“Oh, right, yes, of course,” Cents rattled off, still full of nervous energy and seeming a little embarrassed that he would have to stay for a longer conversation. “What needs doing?”

“We investigated the bandits, and your suspicions were correct, they were bought and paid for by Duke Antoine of Wycome himself. We are currently unsure as to why he has done this, but he should not be trusted. In public, he fully supports the Inquisition, but he has a private agenda. I believe either my agents or Josephine may have solutions to this problem, but we can review them at the next war meeting.”

Cents nodded along to the conversation. “That’s good. I don’t know what he’s up to but it can’t be good.”

“We may have walked into a far larger issue then we had originally planned.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Us? How odd. When has that ever happened?”

Leliana let out a huff of laughter at that. “The irony is not lost on me, Inquisitor.”

“But, they are okay. Or now, at least?” he asked once more, needed to be reassured of his clans safety. Despite the fact that he had left the clan with his mother as a child, he still seemed rather protective of them. 

“Yes, and they send their thanks. The First to the Keeper has even expressed a wish to meet you and thank you in person.”

Cents looked a little startled at that before quickly shaking his head. “That’s not necessary. But I suppose we’ll sort that out later.”

“Yes. That is all I had to say. I thought you may have wished to hear it in private rather than during a meeting.”

“Yes, I think this was best. I appreciate it, Leliana.”

 

–  
“I’m apologising.”

Dorian stared at the elf, who had more or less appeared out of thin air to tell him this, right as he was in the middle of an actually decent chapter in an otherwise terrible book.

“Apologising?” 

Cents nodded. “Yes. To you.”

“I see,” Dorian said, though he really didn’t. 

Cents shuffled on his feet a little. “I’m not very good at this.”

“Evidently. Might I ask what you’re apologising for?” he asked, honestly baffled about what the elf was talking about.

“Before. In Haven. I… I shouldn’t have said some of the things I said,” Cents finally managed to get out. Dorian now remembered the conversation he was refereeing to. Well, conversation was the polite term for it. 

After the a trip through time they had had together, where they seemed to have bonded and trusted one another to actually stop his mentor, Dorian had not expected the argument that came afterwards. In truth, he could not completely remember everything that was said or how they had gotten to that point. But it had ended with Cents saying some rather spiteful things before storming off and avoiding Dorian for a week. Though since that silent week, they had more or less pretended that the argument had never taken place, opting to ignore any negative feeling they had shared, which Dorian had been fine with.

“Only some?”

“Yes, only some. You… you come from a shitty place and you seem fine with that but you’re not a complete bastared about it.”

“Right.”

Cents sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I told you I’m not good at this. You helped us. With the mages. And the time travel stuff.”

“That I did.”

“And you didn’t have to, but you did. He was important to you and you still helped us.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

Cents nodded. “Yes, exactly!” he exclaimed, as though Dorian had just explained it for himself. “And you didn’t deserve some of the things I’ve said since.”

“I’ve heard far worse,” Dorian tried to laugh it off, because he honestly had. It hadn’t been the words but rather the anger behind them that had Dorian not wanting a repeated argument with the elf.

“That’s not the point!” he said, frustration clear in his tone.

“May I ask why you’re doing all of this now?”

“We closed the breach. I thought that would be the end of it, but it feels like everything’s just getting started. So… look, I’m not sure if you’ve notice this but I can be pretty stubborn when I want to be.”

“You? I never would have guessed,” Dorian laughed, making Cents roll his eyes, but also smile. “Apology accepted. And I apologise if I was asking questions that were offensive. I was simply curious about you, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable,” he explained, figuring it would work better if this were a two way system.

Cents clearly had not expected an apology, as he looked a little awkward and unsure of how to accept it. “It’s not that, it’s just… usually people ask they don’t actually want an answer, you know?”

The mage nodded. “Believe me, I do.”

“I still think you’re a stuck up Vint though,” Cents told him, though there was no hatred behind his words as there had been before, but rather a playful, teasing tone.

Two could easily play at that game. “And you’re certainly coming across and an uncivilised savage.”

This got a laugh out of Cents, and Dorian could practically feel their friendship returning back to the sate it once was. He was startled however, when Cents kissed the fingers of his right hand and brought them up to tap Dorians forehead. 

“Do I even want to know where your hands have been?” Dorian asked before Cents jumped from the railing and landed on Solas’ desk below.

 

–   
_Running. Have to keep running. Trees surrounding everything, have to move around then. Snow too thick, can’t move quickly enough. Alone and lost, something flowing. Keep running. It’s getting closer, can feel its breath on the back of the neck. Growls that shake bones, glowing red eyes. Can’t run away. It there, it’s always there._

_“Enough of this.”_

“Hey, Hahren.” 

Solas turned away from his painting to look at Cents entering the circular room. “Da’len. Did you rest well?” he asked. 

“Yes. But I think you already knew that,” he answered the older elf.

Solas smirked at that. “I had an inkling.”

“Do you always do that?” Cents asked suspiciously. 

“No. But you have been having the same nightmare for almost a week now, and it was starting to affect you in your everyday life.” He had a point there. Cents had been even more snort tempered and irritable then he usually was, and that was definitely saying something. 

“So you don’t make it a habit of watching other people dreaming?”

“The dreams of mortals often pale in comparison to what the rest of the Fade has to offer should you look in the right places. No offence.”

“None taken,” he waved it off, relived that he wouldn’t have to worry about Solas just showing up uninvited into his dreams. “You think I’ll stop having those dreams now?” He wasn’t even sure why the dreams scared him so much. Although, maybe scare wasn’t the right term for it. They unnerved him more than anything else, bringing the hair at the back of his neck to stand on end. He couldn’t explain it, whatever it was about just shook him to his core.

“I believe that is up to you to decide. The fade bends to the will and emotions of those who visit it. You simply must learn to recognise when you are and not kept your feelings cloud your judgment,” Solas explained, as he selected a pot of red paint and turned back towards the wall he was working on.

“I’ve been told I can be pretty bad at that,” Cents laughed.

As Solas had his attention on his work, and his hands busy with a pot and paint brush, Cents quickly decided to use this distracted moment to his advantage, hastily bringing his fingers to his lips and then reaching out to touch Solas’ forehead. In an attempt to stop him that ultimately failed, Solas had spilled most of his paint onto the younger elf. 

“Must you do that?” Solas asked in annoyance.

Cents stuck out his tongue.

 

-  
It was the first time in almost 20 years that Cents had seen anyone from his Clan. It was hard to say goodbye to his childhood friend for a second time.

“You still have a home with us, if you want it,” Elgara told him, as she stood by the large gates of Skyhold, several scouts who would accompany her back waiting behind her.

Cents paused and thought about it. “I… I know. And I appreciate it, Elgara, really. But I think I’ve been away too long.”

“You haven’t done too badly for yourself,” she grinned, indicating towards the large building they resided in. 

He laughed. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

“You can always visit,” she offered, a serious expression on her face. It was clear that he was not the only one who had missed his friend. 

“Maybe. When this is all over. I’d like that,” Cents smiled, imagining seeing the old woods he used to explore in. Maybe he could bring Cassandra along with him, if Elgara put in a few good words. 

“Hey, I walked all the way over here for someone I haven’t seen since we were 8. I think you can do me the same honour,” she told him firmly but friendly. 

“Deal,” he nodded. 

They both looked at each other, their faces melancholy, before dragging one another into a tight hug. They clung to each other for what must have been minutes before slowly letting go of one another. 

She kissed her fingers and tapped him on the forehead. “Dareth shiral, da'mi.”

He returned the gesture. “Dareth shiral, lethallan.”

They both smiled at one another, tears in their eyes, as she turned around and started the walk back to the Free Marches. 

Cassandra had been watching the whole exchange, keeping her distance in order to allow them a private goodbye. After Elgara had been out of eyesight for ten minutes and Cents had still yet to move, she decided to go and break the ice of the tender moment that had just passed.

“That gesture…” she started, coming to stand beside Cents.

“Yeah?” he asked, wiping away any remaining tears from his face. 

“What does it mean? I have seen you use it a few times but you have never offered an explanation for it.”

Cents suddenly resembled a child who’s had had just been caught in the cookie jar, looking embarrassed and a little guilty. “Oh! Well, em… it’s just something we did in my clan. It’s a sign of respect or love, and means thank you or goodbye… look, it was never something that really got explained, it was just a thing! Why do you people kiss each other hands or why do you and Cullen punch the soldiers in the arm, it’s just a thing,” he rambled on, his fingers running through his already messy white hair or fiddling with the bandage he always had wrapped around his left palm to cover the mark, his cheeks turning a pinkish colour as he did so.

Cassandra couldn’t help but smile at him. She had understood it was something important to him, but the fact that it tied back to his childhood made it something very personal as well. As his nervous explanation started to extend to others (“And Vivienne and Josie have shown me dozens of ways to great different nobles, and Leliana has secret codes and stuff.”) she took of one of her gloves before gently kissing her fingers and resting them upon his forehead.

His chatter immediately stopped at the gentle touch. Cents looked up at her and she smiled. “All of those things apply to you for me.”

The pinkness to his skin suddenly flared up red as she took away her hand, the tips of his long ears also changing colour. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Cassandra laughed. “You’re the one who’d bright red.”

“Oh, like you’re not,” Cents laughed, a blush still on his face and he cupped on hand along her face, thumb tracing the scar along her face, and putting the other on the back of her neck up pull lips to him. “I think I prefer our usual way of saying it,” he said in between the kisses, as she smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist to lift him up slightly, deepening the kiss.


End file.
